


Nothing is Impossible

by Severina



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Community: muse_talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-18
Updated: 2008-09-18
Packaged: 2017-10-10 12:26:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two weddings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing is Impossible

**Author's Note:**

> Episode 211 / Post Season Five  
> Written for LJ's Muse_Talking community (1st Person Justin Taylor)  
> Prompt: Impossible

I take a break after Lindsay and Mel throw the bouquet. I sit down on that big winding staircase in the foyer and rest my chin in my hands. That's where Michael and the others find me. Apparently even a mansion isn't big enough to hide from those guys, not that I was really trying. I was just looking for some peace and quiet after nearly losing an eye in the mad scramble for the bouquet.

It's actually Vic who spots me first.

"Justin," he calls out, "what are you doing hiding over there? Come join the party!" He detours over to me, a little wobbly on his feet. I think Vic's already dipped into the punch bowl once too often. The others follow in his wake.

I shrug. "Just thinking."

"Eh," Vic says, "you can think when you're dead. Come dance with an old queen."

I grin a little when he pulls me to my feet, staggering against me and giving me an eye-watering whiff of punch-breath. I don't think Vic will be doing much dancing tonight. A lot of lurching and tottering, perhaps, but not much dancing.

"Thinking about what, sweetie?" Emmett asks.

"About Brian," I say. "Just wondering what he's doing right now."

I regret the words as soon as they're out of my mouth.

"Hmmm." Ted cocks his head and taps his finger lightly against his lips. "He's at the white party, so maybe he's…"

"Fucking," Michael suggests.

"Sucking," Ted puts in.

"Tying someone up," Vic says with an arch of his brow.

"Oooh," Emmett pipes up, eyes sparkling, "or getting tied up!"

Yeah. I get it.

"You don't think that maybe," I say, "just maybe, he might be wishing he was here?"

There is a moment of silence before all four of the guys burst out laughing.

* * *

"Thanks for staying," Lindsay tells me later, while we're dancing. "It means a lot to me and Mel."

"I wouldn't have missed it for anything."

"Even the white party," she says with a smile.

"My first," I answer, my voice tinged with regret. Then I meet her eyes and smile back. "But there'll be others. There's only one wedding."

"And you know," she adds in that schoolteacher tone, "don't worry about Brian."

"I'm not," I answer quickly.

"He is what he is. He'll never change. But he cares about you a lot."

Mel taps my elbow then. "Mind if I cut in?"

I nod in relief and leave the two brides to dance together. I find an empty table at the edge of the dance floor and watch them. They're barely moving with the music, lost in their own world and in each others eyes. It's beautiful.

Debbie joins me at my table a little while later. We sit for a minute in silence, just watching Mel and Linds sway on the dance floor, before Deb nudges my arm. "Penny for your thoughts, Sunshine," she says.

I think about making something up, but this is Debbie, not my mom. Debbie seems to have a built in bullshit detector. It must be from all that time spent dealing with Michael and Brian in their formative years.

"I miss Brian," I tell her.

She smiles sadly. "I though it might be something like that."

"I don't regret not going to the white party," I say firmly. "But I can't help wishing he was here. And I keep wondering if maybe…" But I can't finish that last part. I know how they think of me sometimes. Love-struck Justin. Naïve Justin. So I just watch Mel and Lindsay dance.

"That maybe someday, it'll be you and Brian on that dance floor?" Debbie finishes for me.

I sigh. I hate being so transparent.

Debbie takes my hand. "He loves you, kiddo," she says. "And since he's met you, he's done things that I never would have imagined he was capable of. But he's always going to be Brian Kinney, and Brian Kinney is, quite frankly, eighty percent of the time, an asshole."

"But he's not--" I start to protest.

"I love him," Debbie interrupts, "but he can be a little shit. Him not being here today is proof of that."

I look down at the table. I don't want to argue. I don't know what I want. Except Brian.

"There's nothing wrong with dreaming, Sunshine," Debbie says. "Dreams are what keep us going when things get rough. But…. I just want you to be realistic, too. Take what Brian's willing to offer, but don't expect too much."

I could tell her that she doesn't know Brian like I do. That she hasn't sat up with him in the middle of the night when he's worried about Gus's future. She hasn't held his hand and gathered from his grip the strength to walk down the street without fear. She doesn't know him the way I do.

I could tell her that the Brian she knows is just the superficial surface; that I'm one of the few who's seen beneath the façade.

But I keep quiet.

The song ends and Lindsay and Melanie leave the dance floor. A new song begins, something that I've heard a million times at country club dances when I was just a kid.

Debbie pats my hand. "So, Sunshine," she asks, "wanna dance with an old lady?"

"You're not old," I lie.

And I take her hand and lead her to the dance floor.

* * *

The door opens and Debbie pokes her head inside. "Sunshine," she asks, "you all ready?"

I shake my head to clear away the memories. Lindsay and Mel have had eight anniversaries since that day. Ted and Blake have had two. So much has changed in my little family, but sometimes that day at George Schickel's mansion seems like yesterday.

I smile at my mom, who makes a last minute adjustment to my tie.

"Brian hasn't chickened out on me, has he?" I ask Deb, still grinning. I just can't seem to stop.

"He wouldn't dare," Deb says. "He knows we'd have his balls for bootstraps!"

Mom laughs. "Amen."

A hundred of our closest friends and family are waiting patiently in Britin's ballroom for Brian and I to say _I Do_.

I take a deep breath. "I'm ready."

I've been ready for nine years.


End file.
